Sherlock Holmes: Heart of the Capital
by Victor Delacoix
Summary: Sherlock Holmes finds himself tested once again as the body count climbs and London is thrown into turmoil by a mysterious killer.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome all new readers to my FanFic story of Sherlock Holmes

This story takes place during season one in-between episodes two and three (before meeting Moriarty).

You can follow my story here on and also on Tumblr. My Tumblr account is femcatalyst

I hope you enjoy

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Chapter One: Heart of the capital

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A harsh winter wind sailed between the buildings of Baker Street, one resident, a Mr Sherlock Holmes, found himself staring at a needle filled with a cocaine based solution.

A knock at his apartment door knocked him out of his trance and the needle was quickly hidden.

"Holmes, answer the bloody door!" It was Watson of course, desperately trying to speak to his good friend. Whether his motive was fear or worry only time and maybe Sherlock's razor sharp wit could deduce.

The door flew open as Watson let himself in; he was pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked however it did make him feel foolish for not trying to open it in the first place.

"You look dreadful" Sherlock quipped, not even facing the door but instead observing an open folder leant against the fire place.

"You're not even looking at me, Sherlock; I'm fine it's you I'm worried about"

"Normally I can hear your footsteps ascend the stairs in a spritely manor coupled with a more exciting entry." Sherlock began, "instead you took your sweet time and waited outside. I deduce you're exhausted hence the slow walking and your face would only tell me the same story".

Sherlock arose from his seat and turned to face John. He wore a big grin but his face was just as tired as Watson's.

"So where is it?" John angrily enquired. "I know you have been using, it's been two months since our last case and boredom always leads to usage". John's face went from tired and rosy from the wind to angry and betrayed.

"I'm afraid your concern will have to wait for we have another visitor."

Watson's face twisted to confusion until from behind him appeared Le'Strad.

"John, Sherlock, I'm afraid I need you both, but you may want to sit down."

Sherlock stayed standing as Watson and Le'strad entered the room, Watson joined Sherlock over by the fire place and Le'strad looked out the window as if the wind itself may be listening in.

Watson took a hard look at Sherlock, his smile was back and his eyes burned like a gasoline fire.

"You're excited aren't you Sherlock?" Watson exclaimed, exasperation in his voice.

"That's entirely up to the Inspector. What have you got for us?"

"Four murders have taken place over the past two years. All four of the victims have had their hearts surgically removed and stolen."

"And you brought this to me why?" Sherlock asked, unbelievably anxious to get to the point.

"Because this time one of the murderers was found dead at the crime scene right next to the victim's body."

Sherlock's face beamed, "now, Inspector, you have my attention."

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This was just a teaser to see if people are interested in my story and would like to read more :)

Please leave a review and follow me to find out what Sherlock finds at the crime scene

Victor


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys here's the next instalment of Sherlock Holmes: The heart of the capital

Thanks for reading!

Enjoy

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Chapter Two: The cold room

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A dark coldness loomed over the scene of the crime. A dark concrete room near a river in south London.

Sherlock, Watson and DI Lestrade stood over the two corpses, all silently pondering.

The one corpse lay vertically with feet towards the door; his chest neatly opened revealing a heartless cavity. The second was diagonally sprawled diagonally next to him, a large wound to his neck.

A thin layer of shiny ice blanketed the two lifeless bodies.

"It's all rather simple" began Holmes. "The heartless victim was brought here conscious and against his will by two men, one of whom is laying right next to him. However it didn't quite go to plan, there was a struggle and the victim used a disclosed knife and stabbed this enforcer through the throat."

"Where do you get two from" Watson started and Holmes corrected him immediately.

"Two sets of foot prints and one set of drag marks, the drag marks of course belonging to the heartless victim as he was forcibly moved into position. That's when the first enforcer's throat was cut. A single pistol shot to the front of the victim's forehead killed him instantly."

The whole affair played like a movie in Sherlock's mind, it was as if he was actually there silently observing. He couldn't see the face of the third member, a large white question mark hovered, however due to the gait of the footsteps and their size he had deduced he was roughly 6"2 and of considerable build.

"Why would the killer take the knife with him?" Lestrade enquired.

"Simple" Holmes erupted triumphantly "your men failed to notice this blood droplet which clearly came from the third member, the killer who got away. Plus the fabric stuck to the blood which must have come from his coat, green and course; although there's no chance his coat hasn't been burned or discarded by now."

The wound on the forehead however was unclean and messy. "Holmes it doesn't look like a gunshot wound" began LeStrade.

"That's because the sole survivor removed it with a knife, rather grizzly business no doubt.

"But what does this all mean" Announced Watson, tired and confused.

"This means that were not dealing with a serial killer, no were facing a criminal mastermind with men willing to kill for him. What were facing could put the entire of London in danger." Sherlock's tone grew from a monotone to an excited glow of wonder and elation.

"Finally a task fit for us, Watson." Sherlock bellowed, much to the disdain of John.

"I'll have my boys analyse that blood, I'll also let you know when we've ID'd the dead henchman".

Watson pulled in close to Sherlock for privacy, "are you seriously enjoying this?! There are two dead men lying at your feet and one of them is missing his heart!"

"You're absolutely right Watson" he paused and pondered "I still can't figure out why they are taking people's hearts."

John was furious; he pulled away and walked an aggravated circle all the while making grumbling sounds. While he did the detective inspector left the scene through the small door they had entered from.

"Perhaps they're selling them on the black market" pointed out Watson.

"No that's far too boring" Holmes retorted.

"Where do we go from here? We can't just wait around for the next murder"

"This crime scene has given me a lot to go with, John, look at how he's dressed. None of his clothes are designer so he's clearly not a wealthy hit man. I think he and all the hit men are under duress. They're all being made to dance like puppets under the control of some madman. It's not the murders that worry me, Watson, it's knowing that all this is a part of some master plan we're yet to be made aware of".

A week later and still the case was still unsolved.

Watson had spent the past five minutes delicately manoeuvring his tools inside the chamber of the lock that separated him from Sherlock.

There was one final click and "Success!" John exclaimed.

John swung the door open in a powerful gesture and walked a few steps into the room.

"I didn't know you could pick locks" muttered Sherlock, he was facing the wall. His curly brown hair a mess and his complexion pale as alabaster.

Documents were spread across the floor as if someone had thrown them into a fan and left them where they had settled. Watson knew they were exactly where Sherlock wanted them but it was beyond him to figure out how someone could remember where anything was.

Fury and blood rushed to Watson's cheeks. He looked around the bomb site that was Sherlock's apartment. Sherlock was perched on his thinking chair, cigarette in hand.

" _I suppose it's better than cocaine"_ Watson thought to himself.

"It's been a week, Sherlock; I've been trying to get hold of you. Mrs Hudson thinks you might be dead due to the smell alone".

"Ah" erupted Holmes. He pointed to the table without looking. He took a long hard drag on his cigarette and then flicked it out of the window onto the cold street below.

A thick beam of light shined into the room, smoke drifted heavily.

Watson peered around the corner cautiously.

"Why in god's name do you have a human head in your apartment Sherlock"!

Watson's tone grew from a disappointed rant to a furious shout, every word

"I'm conducting an experiment, John" Sherlock finally turned to greet his friend's angry gaze.

"Is that the head from the crime scene?!"

"John" Sherlock attempted to interject.

"Why is there a bullet hole in it, Sherlock? There was only one wound before?!"

"Because the first wound was actually a gunshot, Watson, the assailant involved then proceeded to remove it with a knife, hence the sloppy mess. It wasn't a random wound but instead a cold calculated removal to hide the weapon details from us". A smile streaked across his face and Watson found it almost contagious, seeing Sherlock work was a fascinating and exhilarating experience.

Watson changed the subject, "Has LeStrade been in touch?

Sherlock nodded. "He confirmed my suspicions, the victim was nobody and so was the dead assailant. He was on benefits, between jobs. Normally that would make me think that he was in it for the money however he apparently was reported missing a full year ago."

The two stared at each other for a brief moment, neither knew what to make of this information yet.

Sherlock's phone sprang into life, the caller ID read "LeStrade".

"Sherlock speaking."

"Another missing heart case, Sherlock. It's different this time."

"How so?" Sherlock fidgeted.

"There's a note attached to the corpse"

A long pause seemed to almost last a year.

"It's for you Sherlock".

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Thanks for reading folks! I hope you enjoyed my second chapter.

Don't forget to leave a review, I always welcome constructive criticism.

Many thanks

-Victor


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